


wear your best suit, all these people are watching

by brampersandon



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 03:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14685714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brampersandon/pseuds/brampersandon
Summary: "It's tradition," Thomas tells him.He says it with such finality,that's that, no further questions, and his fingers are so deftly undoing Niko's belt and buttons that for one wild moment, Niko almost believes it.





	wear your best suit, all these people are watching

**Author's Note:**

> originally written as a forfeit for [raumdeuter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raumdeuter) drawing me as a sunfish being barbecued by sami khedira, because the 2017-18 season has clearly broken me entirely.
> 
> title comes from _you'll need those fingers for crossing_ by los campesinos!.

"It's tradition," Thomas tells him.

He says it with such finality, _that's that, no further questions_ , and his fingers are so deftly undoing Niko's belt and buttons that for one wild moment, Niko almost believes it.

Almost. 

" _This_ is tradition?" This, all this, the way he's standing awkwardly in his new office, Thomas kneeling in front of him and helping him step out of his trousers— the fact that he's stepping out of his trousers at all. "Not a tradition I'm familiar with."

"You wouldn't know," Thomas says breezily, "You weren't captain."

"You aren't either—"

"Technicalities!" Niko makes a wounded noise at the way Thomas crumples his trousers and shoves them to the side. Wounded enough that Thomas gives him a raised-eyebrow look, keeps eye contact with him as he picks them back up and very deliberately folds them, seams neat and crisp. "Is this what you're into?" he asks, his grin all teeth. "Knew it had to be something strange, but if you want to watch me do housework—"

"I don't," Niko cuts in, but he's laughing as he says it. This whole situation is absurd, Thomas most of all. "I'm not, it's just— Armani. Be careful." Thomas wrinkles his nose but sets the trousers carefully aside anyway. And then he's scooting closer, nudging forward, hands sliding up Niko's thighs and breath hot against the outline of his cock in his briefs. "I can't imagine what anyone would get out of that that," he hears himself saying, the kind of babble that only comes when his nerves are on edge. "Watching you iron? Do you even know how? Or... steam curtains, or—"

Thomas glances up at him then, genuinely curious when he asks, "Do you always talk this much before you're about to get sucked off?" All Niko can manage is a helpless little shrug. "Great, we have that in common. Now," and he doesn't miss a beat as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and tugs them down just enough to get his cock out, "Please, Herr Kovač, respect tradition, would you?"

That's it, then, he's finally blessedly silent when he takes Niko into his mouth. And he's good, he's great, _of course he is_ , Niko's learned quickly enough that Thomas is nothing if not prodigiously and unexpectedly talented. He cards a hand through his hair, can't stop himself from smiling when Thomas gives an appreciative little hum around him.

So. Fine. This is fine. Niko can lean back a little against his desk, he can close his eyes, he can pretend he isn't less than a week into his tenure as manager and already putting himself into a spot of trouble. Tradition, right? Thomas flicks his tongue under the head of his cock and Niko grips the edge of the desk too hard, tries to keep the hand in his hair from doing the same. Tradition, absolutely. But if it's tradition, then that means Guardiola and Lahm— well, that's not terrible to think about at least, that makes sense, but it also means Heynckes, which—

Niko stops short, puts his palm flat against Thomas' forehead and pushes until he pulls off. "Please tell me it isn't tradition," he says, voice shakier than he'd like it to be.

Thomas grins at him like the devil, sharp and bright. "You started actually thinking about it, didn't you?" He wraps a hand around Niko, waves the other one dismissively through the air. "If it makes you feel better, it only happens the first time someone coaches, so."

It rips a laugh out of his throat, raw and ragged. "No, you're still lying. Right?"

Thomas doesn't deign to answer that, only has the audacity to wink at him before ducking his head back down.

**Author's Note:**

> \- "thomas won't retain captaincy after neuer comes back from injury" can't hear you, have very specific interests in mind and will only cater to them
> 
> \- as with before, i don't actually go here so i apologize for everything, but i encourage everyone to jump in our lil canoe!! you can find me on [tumblr](http://strikerbacks.tumblr.com) if you want to shove more of this noodle goblin in my face.


End file.
